


Tinsel

by bofurs_laugh



Series: Sherlock Advent Series [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Christmas, Friendship, I have a problem, Love, Lovers, M/M, More Fluff, Tinsel, Too much fluff, puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bofurs_laugh/pseuds/bofurs_laugh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John thought he had to worry about Sherlock around the tinsel, but he was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tinsel

**Author's Note:**

> I had planned to write something very short, but this just happened. I apologize for all the fluff I have been writing. I adore Gladstone, so he will be very prominent for the rest of the month, so I hope you like him. I also apologize if Sherlock has seemed ooc, because it is hard to write fluff for a character like him.
> 
> I do not own Sherlock
> 
> and any mistakes are completely mine

After the fairy light fiasco John was leery about allowing tinsel in the flat. The metallic material was flammable enough that the probability of Sherlock setting it on fire in some way was higher than the probability of Mrs. Hudson having homemade biscuits in her flat at any time of the day. Maybe a few new fire extinguishers would ease the raising wave of panic.

“Don't be silly,” Sherlock drawled as he walked into their sitting room. “I have no experiments planned for tinsel. Dull.” John stared at the detective as he took his usual seat and turned on the telly. A moment later Gladstone trotted in, skull chew toy securely in his mouth, and plopped down next to Sherlock's feet.

“You don't watch Doctor Who,” John stated as he approached the television.

“Gladstone likes the noise and you like this particular Doctor,” Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. The puppy barked twice at John like he was agreeing with Sherlock before he focused his attention back on his toy. John just blinked. What the hell was happening in his flat? Since they had brought Gladstone home, life at 221B felt unusually domestic and it was driving John crazy. He was honestly surprised that the detective hadn't blown up something or shot the smiley spray painted on the wall. If the week continued like this, John would be tempted to do it himself.

“Has Lestrade or Mycroft texted you about the Hamilton case?”

“Right now Quentin is handling everything and the moment he knows anything he promises to tell me before Mycroft,” Sherlock answered absently. Something wasn't right, not if Sherlock was as docile as he was. 

“Are you high?” John narrowed his eyes at the younger man. His pupils appeared normal and he was functioning as he usually did, but the quietness was unnerving John.

“I haven't touched my needles since before you,” Sherlock admitted as he shifted to face John and John believed him. Nothing else had changed since the detective's odd behavior except for their kiss at his family estate. The doctor moaned and sat down, his head in his hands. Sherlock stood from his chair and rushed over to John, Gladstone following in his wake.

“I've broken you haven't I?” John mumbled without looking at Sherlock. The detective chuckled and took John's hands away from his face before kissing him gently.

“You haven't broken me John, just made me content for the first time in my life,” Sherlock smiled gently, though there was a sadness that tainted the small upturn of his lips. “My mind is quiet and blissfully so.” And John knew what that meant and the importance behind the simple statement because Sherlock only ever returned to his drugs when his mind ceased to stop. He was about to kiss Sherlock's nose when he noticed that Gladstone was chewing on something that was not his skull.

“No Gladstone!” he yelled as he surged to his feet, knocking Sherlock down to the ground. The puppy had gotten a hold of some of the tinsel and was happily eating the shiny material. John couldn't imagine that it tasted good, but Gladstone didn't seem bothered. Behind him John could hear Sherlock chuckling and he found himself joining in.

“And you were worried about me around the tinsel,” the detective sounded offended. 

“Stop being a git and help me,” John smacked Sherlock's leg and the young man crawled over to where John was holding the puppy.

“So pushy,” Sherlock remarked. He took the end of tinsel that was sticking out of Gladstone's mouth and tugged gently. Eventually the puppy relented and the whole string popped out of his mouth.

“At least I don't usually have to worry about you eating things you shouldn't,” John sighed as he rubbed Gladstone's belly. He barked and licked at John's hand.

“Are you talking about me or the puppy?” Sherlock asked. John laughed and handed the puppy over to the detective before standing.

“You, but that can be questioned. Tea?”

“If you insist,” Sherlock remarked as he took a seat on the sofa and plopped Gladstone down next to him. A moment later Sherlock's mobile vibrated. “Quentin has found something!” John reappeared with two mugs of tea, a frown marring his face.

“He always has such perfect timing,” the doctor mumbled. “We haven't even drunk our tea.”

“Later John, we have a case to finish!” Sherlock picked up Gladstone to take him downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat. John put the tea back into the kitchen before running up stairs to get his gun, he wouldn't be caught without it this time. When he came back down Sherlock was dressed and ready to go, his mobile in his hand. 

“Dangerous?”

“Without a doubt.” John had never felt more alive than running through the London streets with Sherlock by his side, nor more safe.


End file.
